Whiskey, Rye and the Maraschino Cherry Blues
by reverse-swing
Summary: "We're nothing but a patchwork of broken promises; shards of something we used to be". Pre-prison, canon compliant. A collection of B-sides.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A new one for you folks. It's my first foray into the world of canon, so thoughts and comments welcome.**

 **Quick thank you to 'imissedyourpatronage' for her assistance with the chronology and the tiny details of the show I didn't realise I needed to know until I spoke to her!**

 **Enjoy.**

It's a fucking cocktail umbrella and right now it's sitting in a puddle on the floor, mocking her. A gaudy reminder of why her parents think she's being impetuous and stubborn.

 _Downright ridiculous_

Her mother always did have a way with words.

…

Northampton is more inviting as a ghost town, especially under the whisper of a fall breeze. Bare trees flank the paths around Smith, a contended sort of hush blanketing the place.

But there's nowhere to hide amongst the still and the crunch of leaves under foot begin to echo a little too loudly, the sidewalks stretch out a little too endlessly, until she becomes restless, a persistent itch prickling under her skin, one that she can't quite reach.

 _Maybe._

Graduation was a week ago, but she finds herself carving out the familiar path to the campus bus stop and taking a seat on the cold plastic bench to wait. There's a sole beer can resting on the floor beside her, remnants from the night before no doubt. But there's something odd about the way it's been placed neatly upright- measured even. She kicks it firmly, watching it wobble onto its side and out seeps the remainder of the cheap hooch.

And she enjoys it, because there's strange comfort to be had in upsetting the regularity of it all.

It makes her smile.

…

It's the night before graduation. They're at the pool party of a girl that Polly's shared some classes with. Shannon _something_.

'So what are you gonna do?' Polly asks her, breath raspy and wet, eyes glimmering under the first throes of inebriation.

'Do with what?'

' _Life_ Pipes' her friend replies, grabbing the blonde by the shoulders. She stares up into the sky, like it holds all the answers. Piper looks up at the same with a burgeoning curiosity, a sense of possibility.

'It's infinite' Piper whispers, mainly to herself.

'What?' Polly asks.

Piper shakes her head.

'I'm gonna get us some more punch' Polly replies, her eyes already drifting over to Bobby Clay, her mind replaying their one and only date from last semester.

But Piper's no longer listening, because she knows (maybe she always did) it's _all_ up for grabs. She just needs the courage to reach for it.

…

She's takes a seat at the back of the bus and runs into a Spanish student she recognises from her dorm. They chat for a while, making small talk about Smith and when that peters out, about Spain; the gothic architecture of Barcelona and the chattering hum of Sant Antoni Market.

And it could be gloom of the morning or the charcoal mass of the sky, but it suddenly makes her yearn for the warmth of a foreign sun, to feel the replenishing heat of it radiate through her.

'It's my stop' the girl finally says as they pull up outside the library. 'Where are you heading?'

Piper doesn't reply. She's not sure she knows the answer.

…

Her cell hasn't stopped ringing all morning. She watches it stutter across the Formica, gently buzzing towards the lip of the table. The waitress refills her cup wordlessly, but her eyes glance towards the phone.

'It's just my mother' Piper offers, for no other reason than her own frustration bubbling over.

'Say no more' the woman grins before returning to the counter.

It's a few more minutes before the phone disturbs her again and she's on the verge of depositing it into her drink, savouring the thought of it disappearing into the murky depths, before she notices it's a message from Cal.

 _Call home, mom is threatening to cut you out of the will if you ignore her. Or don't….more for me that way…._

Piper rolls her eyes, downs the rest of the drink like a shot and dials.

…

Carol can't emphasise her disappointment enough and practically all of Piper's suggestions are met with a sneer. Backpacking is dismissed as needless frivolity and charity work treated with a haughty sigh.

Bill occasionally murmurs inaudible things in the background; Piper doesn't need to hear them to know they'd be in support of her mother. Clearly _now_ is the time he's decided to play the dutiful husband.

'I just don't see the need for you to stay _there'_ Carol hisses. 'Graduation was a week ago'

'So?'

'So? So Piper, don't you think it seems a little odd that rather than coming back to your family, you're rattling around in Northampton… _alone?_ '

'Odd to whom?'

Her mother is silent for a second and Piper imagines what she must look like, lips pursed in frustration, fingers nervously playing with the string of pearls around her neck. It gives her a visceral thrill, one that rips through her deliciously.

'Well…to _everyone_ …I mean honestly Piper…just what are you doing?'

It's a fair question and up until a few seconds ago Piper wouldn't have had an answer, but her eyes settle on the notice in the window of the café; _Staff required, apply within_.

A mischievous smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, as she imagines the frown lines on Carol's forehead deepening, cheeks flushed with fresh panic, eyes darting anxiously to her husband.

'I'm getting a job' she says straightening up in her chair, pausing before she delivers the final blow: 'as a waitress'.

And then the line goes dead.

…

'It's 8.30am' her voice hisses down the phone.

Piper can hear the rustling of covers. 'Good to know you can tell time Poll'

'Stop grinning you asshole'

'I'm not'

'You are….I can tell'

Piper laughs and pulls into an alleyway across from the train station. 'So what's up?'

'What's up? What's up is that this is the _second_ morning in a row I've had a call asking me to provide a job reference for Piper Elizabeth Chapman, for working at an establishment that I've never even heard of!'

Piper pauses, 'Oh that….'

'Yes…. _that_ '

'I meant to ask you….'

'Uh huh'

'But then I got busy and….well would you mind?'

Polly sighs, 'I don't even get why you're bothering. You're a Smith graduate for fuck's sake, why do you want to be waiting tables or making Woo Woos for yuppie assholes?'

'Humour me will you?'

'Whatever, if another one of your calls disturbs my sleep, I'm telling them you're a convicted felon…'

'Bye Poll….'

…

Two weeks trawling for minimum wage work around Northampton is almost enough to send Piper back home; or at the very least to Polly's couch. She's been told she's over qualified, under qualified and everything in between. But the thought of her mother's smug smile and told you so demeanor is enough to make her stay put and she's rewarded with a trial run at a tiki bar, imaginatively named 'The Tiki Hut'.

It's based on the outskirts of the college campus and Piper has a hazy recollection of throwing up in one of the stalls after happy hour one night, freshman year, when the place was called something less exotic and serving dusty peanuts instead of pulled pork sliders and watered down pitchers of foamless beer, instead of Pina Colada's.

As far as trials go, Piper is almost certain that this one is bad: _fatally_ bad.

Her war trophies from today include; two broken glasses, a smashed bottle of bourbon and a cut on her ring finger from an attempt to slice a lime. But she's pretty sure that Jonah, the bar manager has a crush on her, so she's riding out his goodwill for all it's worth, occasionally flashing him the warmest smile she can muster, hoping he doesn't notice when she messes up yet another order.

 _Hey lady, I said no ice!_

But by 8pm, Jonah's temper is fraying and Piper is sure it's burning on the edge of something else; namely the volition to fire her.

So she stares down at the cocktail umbrella, the pinks and reds clashing horribly against the blue puddle it's presently bobbing up and down in, wondering if she can be fucked to fetch the mop and bucket and pointedly ignoring the increasing murmur of the patrons drifting around her.

'Looks like you could use a hand'

Piper looks up; a woman with short brown hair is smiling warmly at her, as if she's familiar.

 _Old acquaintance?_

'Aquatini, right?' she continues, pointing down at the spilt drink.

The blonde straightens herself up, 'Do I…do I know you?' she offers gingerly. The woman looks older than Piper, maybe only a handful of years or so, but definitely older. She can't place her from Smith and the warmth she's trying to exude seems forced- and suddenly Piper's folding her arms protectively, because this feels all wrong somehow.

'Know me?' The woman laughs and like her smile, it lacks genuine depth, failing to reach her eyes. She glances over Piper's shoulder at something, but it's fleeting, so the blonde ignores it. 'No…I was just making an observation and I guess you sort of stick out like a sore thumb behind the bar'

'Why?' Piper says, eyes narrowing slightly.

'Smith grad right?' And she glances away once more.

Piper turns her head to follow the woman's gaze, but there's a group of men gathered by the Pool table and she can't see past them. So she turns back around. 'Yes…' she replies hesitantly. This could be nothing more than a lucky guess, Northampton is tiny after all and other than Smith, there's nothing else of note for miles.

'You just strike me as someone that should be on an adventure some place….like….'

'Chapman, you wanna clean that up, or do you plan on slipping in it and injuring yourself for the _second_ time today' Jonah interrupts, his words, slicing through the conversation, severing it irreparably.

He hands her a mop and bucket and by the time Piper glances up again, the woman has disappeared.

'You see that woman?' Piper asks him, eyes scanning the burgeoning crowd, beginning to wonder if she didn't just imagine it all.

'What woman?'

'Short brown hair…she was standing right here a few seconds ago' she drops the mop and bucket, deciding to wander down the street to see if she can find her.

'Wait…what about the mess?' Jonah yells after her.

'Don't worry' she fires back, 'I won't expect a reference'.

…

Fahri is smiling at her in a manner that means she isn't going to get her way and it's making Alex wish she'd popped an X before coming out tonight, to make this more bearable, to take the edge off, blur the reality of _Sylvie._

'I can't babysit her, I've got my own shit to deal with' she pleads, over the increasingly raucous voices of the men playing pool next to them.

Fahri leans back in his seat, swirling the liquor in his glass, regarding her closely. 'Most expensive fucking babysitter we've ever employed in that case'.

Alex rolls her eyes 'hilarious….but you wanna address my _actual_ point?'

Fahri sighs. 'Whaddya want me to say Vause? She's been promoted, we need someone to show her the ropes and you're _it_ , you got a problem with that then I can give you Kubra's direct-line, maybe you wanna thrash it out with him huh?'

He leans forward slightly, his voice becoming a little more hushed. 'Me on the other hand, I prefer a quiet life. Do the work, take the money and _enjoy,_ what's so difficult about that? Besides, it's not forever and don't tell me you're not getting any perks out of it?' He grins, takes another sip of his drink and lights a cigarette.

'The hassle is vastly outweighing the perks' Alex spits, 'she's fucking clingy…and…..'

'I'm pretty sure she's not the first clingy woman you've dealt with Vause. Like I say, just show her the ropes and then cut her loose, she'll be too busy to trouble you by then, I guarantee it'. He takes another drag on the cigarette and then hands it to Alex.

'I'm gonna hold you to that' she replies, voice surly, just as Sylvie returns, beaming with news of a new target, _the perfect mule._ She points her out across the room.

' _Her_?' Alex says, her eyes locking on the blonde stranger, dejectedly clasping a mop and bucket. 'Laura Ingalls fucking Wilder?!'

'She's perfect Al….she's a Smith grad and….'

'No' Alex interrupts firmly.

'What? Why?'

Fahri straightens up in his seat, eyebrow raised in anticipation of an explanation, but none is forthcoming, just an affirmation of the previous sentiment.

 _No._

Of course Alex knows that Sylvie is right, the girl looks perfect; polished enough to be middle class, liberal enough to be a Smith grad, bored enough to be seeking adventure, but the thought of Sylvie recruiting the blonde jars with Alex, sit's uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach, like something jagged, indigestible.

And then Sylvie's face crumples into something soft and broken, before she's up and excusing herself to the restroom.

'See what I mean?' Alex says to Fahri, as if this is proof of the precise point she's been making to him all evening.

But he just smiles, raises his glass in an exaggerated fashion and offers her a'cheers' _._

Alex stubs out the cigarette in an ashtray and grabs her jacket. 'Tell Sylvie i'll see her later'.

She doesn't wait for Fahri to reply, her head's already swimming with thoughts of a club downtown, being lost in smoky shadows, strangers melting in and out of focus around her, sepia, where everything is safe.

She stops just short of the exit door to glance up at the blonde for a final time. But she's gone.

Alex breathes a sigh of relief, before disappearing into the distance, swallowed up by the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hello folks, here's installment two. It's set between the first time Alex sees Piper in the bar and before Sylvie catches them together.**

 **I'm not sure this is going to be a really long fic, so may just be a handful more chapters, but I'll see how it goes.**

 **Thank you as ever to those that read, follow and review, I really do appreciate the time and effort and it's always great to hear your thoughts.**

 **Once again, thanks to 'imissedyourpatronage' for her assistance.**

 **So here's chapter 2. Enjoy.**

 _Post Piper Chapman;_ that's how she's viewed everything for the last couple of weeks. Something extra punctuating her thoughts, sending her focus awry.

Mule numbers are dwindling, Sylvie's grip on her life tightening and yet Alex finds herself _writhing,_ eel like, against the current.

It's dangerous, she knows that and Northampton isn't great for lying low, especially now that College is done with for another year. Shadowy bar corners no longer seem to conceal her and there's an ever-decreasing number of clubs within which she can seek refuge.

And the girls they come and go, they always do. Chloe and Eva and Maxi and Freda: a promise on their lips, wanderlust on their minds.

It's another Wednesday, in another bar, delicate lips pressed to her ear:

 _Mexico is something I've always dreamed of…_

A red head; pretty, smiley and petite. But tonight, Alex can't play the game. The rules have changed. And it only takes a second for her to realise when that shift occurred, when the planes of her life started to re-align.

 _Post Piper Chapman._

…

She's reading, or at least she's trying to, except Sylvie is making it as hard as humanly possible to concentrate. Skittish movements circling Alex, under the pretense of searching for her travel documents.

'Fuck's sake Sylvie' Alex says, slamming the hardback down onto the coffee table, final threads of patience fraying, 'they're not here. They weren't here ten minutes ago when you tossed all the contents of the drawers and cupboards onto the floor and surprisingly, they _still_ haven't magically appeared, so can you please, just get out of my fucking face for a few minutes?!'

The words tumble out rapidly, fiercely, like steam escaping a whistling kettle, but the relief is fleeting, because she knows what's coming next and she's not sure she can tolerate another evening of it.

'Why do you have to be like this?' Sylvie replies, like some hapless, wounded animal and all it serves to do is make Alex more resentful of the situation. But Fahri's words are weaved into the fabric of her consciousness and she knows she can't do anything too drastic, she's not in a position to rock the boat…not just yet.

So she sighs instead, scrambles up from the chair and in to the kitchen, pouring a large measure of bourbon into a coffee mug and gulping it down so quickly she can barely taste it. But Sylvie is still on her tail, appearing in the doorway: the harbinger of doom.

'You shouldn't waste the good stuff like that' she says, pointing at the now empty mug. She pauses and the lines of her face become softer, her voice a little sweeter, 'I mean, least you can do is pour it into a tumbler, right?' She reaches across Alex to a cupboard above the brunette's head and pulls a glass out, fine crystal glistening in the fading evening light.

'I'm good' Alex replies, turning away.

'What does that mean?'

'It means I don't need a tumbler'

'Ok' Sylvie says, placing the glass on the counter top, her eyes still firmly fixed on Alex.

The brunette refills the mug with more booze and she knows that it's making a statement of sorts, but quite honestly she's not sure she can bring herself to give a fuck, at least not enough to quit being an asshole for a minute or two. Besides, this is still within the parameters of the 'rules'. Fahri can't get pissed at her.

 _Maybe_.

She stuffs a hand into the pocket of her jeans, a thumb running over the outline of two pills nestled together in a plastic bag and it makes her cheeks feel warm, her blood hum in anticipation. And suddenly she's fighting the urge to find a bar some place, but not for work. Not tonight.

 _And what do you do Alex? Besides making fun of strangers in bars….._

She'd given Piper her number, scrawled it across a napkin in bleeding, blue biro. And it had seemed like romantic frippery at the time, _the very best kind_ , they both had fucking cell phones after all, but paper is disposable…feelings less so….

 _Sometimes._

'Will you come with me to the airport?' Sylvie says, sharply fracturing her thought process.

'It's a standard issue run…you'll be fine' Alex replies, necking the fresh contents of her cup. A warmth begins to emanate from her stomach, radiating slowly through her veins.

And now the back of her neck begins to prickle, a sheen of restlessness settling on her skin; these walls won't be enough to contain her, not this evening.

'Call me when you've done what you need to ok?' Alex says, pushing past Sylvie and into the hallway.

'Where are you going?' Sylvie shouts after her, her voice splintering, so the end of the question morphs into a strange screech.

But there's no reply; just the slam of the front door;

And _silence._

...

It's when she first visits Fahri's apartment that Alex _really_ dares to dream. It's disgustingly opulent; unapologetically lavish and it sort of sends her sick that she's slightly in awe of it all.

But Diane is still clocking in and clocking out, snatching sleep whenever life allows. And her blood pressure is up, mood low:

 _(The ebb and flow of the under privileged)_.

'Aim big, worry small' Fahri tells her with a grin, his words velvet, dissipating like a thin mist around them.

'That simple huh?' Alex says.

'It's as complicated as you want to make it'.

'I have a choice?' she says half laughing, but not meaning to.

'Always'.

He takes a seat next to her on a couch. And Alex can't help but think it's probably worth more than the entire contents of Diane's trailer.

'You've got potential Vause, I know it….and _you_ know it, you've just got to let go'.

'Let go?'

'You are what you make yourself: nothing more, nothing less'.

'So what are _you_?' she asks, eyes narrowed.

'Happy'

'Truly?'

He barks a laugh. 'Show me one person that says he's _truly_ happy and I'll show you…'

'….Kubra?' she smirks.

'Touché…..' He pauses, voice a little gentler, more human… 'like I said, _potential'._

'I'll take that' she says, feeling surprisingly buoyant. Because it's only Monday and she figures, she's got this.

…

The Jazz band is piss-poor; polyrhythms amiss, swing note non-existent, but the beer is good and strong and the barman is barely perfunctory. This suits Alex just fine, because tonight she's trying not to think, to engage, to be anything more than the minimum that's required of her.

'Melancholy in your eyes, blues as your backdrop….some might say you're a terrible cliché'.

There's a playfulness to her a voice, a lightness that suddenly lifts Alex out of the secluded bubble she's been sat in for the last hour.

 _Piper._

'Says the girl flirting with a stranger at a bar' the brunette replies turning to face her companion. She tries to keep her voice even, her manner staid, but suddenly everything seems sharper, brighter….. _new._

The blonde leans in close, her breath smells sweet, intoxicatingly inviting. 'I'm _not_ flirting…..and _you're_ not a stranger'

'One out of two aint bad kid'

'Are you gonna at least offer me a drink?' Piper says.

'What's the hurry?' Alex laughs, 'we have all night'.

…

Alex is good and drunk by the time the band has finished its set, the bar virtually deserted and then Piper kick-starts the jukebox.

 _Everything always seems better with music._

And Billie Holiday sings about how she can't remember a worse December, but Alex finds herself thinking the opposite; the onset of winter has a newly acquired luster.

'You like Bille Holiday?' Piper asks, sliding back onto the bar stool, her knee pressed into Alex's thigh.

 _Intentional?_

Alex's thoughts are a little too smudged around the edges to analyze the blonde's actions any further. So she just smiles and nods. 'Of course' she says, 'she's classic'.

'Hey' Piper says, suddenly sitting up, eyes bright, smile wolfish, 'you wanna dance?'

'Dance?'

'Yes'

'Here?'

'Why not?'

'Well I could give you a whole list of reasons'

'But you won't' the blonde grins, already offering her hand.

And Alex knows that she's right before she's even taken it.

…

The jukebox must have stopped a while ago, although Alex can't pinpoint when, only that Piper Chapman is pressed close to her, her fingers weaved through the blonde's own as they sway to something that only the two of them are party to.

'You never did tell me….' Piper says breaking away momentarily.

'What?' Alex replies, watching the shimmer of blue, a light ripple on an ocean surface.

'How someone like you winds up working for an international drug cartel'.

Alex laughs, it's low and raspy and wet. 'It's a long story kid….'

'Well, you did say we had all night'.

…

When the bartender's (limited) goodwill runs out and he decides to close up, they find themselves shivering under a stoop of a bookshop across the road, watching fat, apocalyptic rain-drops burst and smatter as they hit the sidewalk.

'What was your plan for tonight?' Piper asks, moving a wet tendril of hair out of her eyes.

Alex shrugs, 'I didn't think that far head, just needed to get out of the house'

'You have to work tomorrow?'

Alex can feel the buzzing of the phone in her coat pocket. 'Yeah…I guess…' She wants to sound casual, like she has _some_ plans, but they're not set in stone, just in case….

'I can show you around Smith…if you're free…' she quickly adds. After all, a caveat is always good.

There's a pause.

Longer than Piper would like…

Intentionally added by Alex…..

'It's a beautiful building…..' the blonde continues hesitantly.

The phone is still buzzing and that's never a good sign. It's probably Sylvie, trust the dumb bitch to fuck something up. And the thought of work and her obligations gives Alex a sharp jolt of reality, the veneer of inebriation cracking.

'I've got to go…I'm sorry' the brunette says. And she knows that it probably sounds abrupt, rude even, but quite honestly she's no idea what she's doing with this girl; only that this evening will melt into dawn in a couple of hours and she's not sure how to feel about that, or how she even wound up here. It would be so much easier if she were planning on recruiting her.

 _Easy come; easy go._

But Piper is neither of those things; Alex knows that already.

And the blonde can't hide the disappointment in her 'Oh'. _Alex pretends not to notice_. She can't mask the shock in her eyes. _Alex has pointedly turned away._

'See you around' the brunette fires into the gloom, as she turns to make her way back into the downpour.

And then she's gone and Piper's left thinking; she never did much like Billie Holiday anyway.

…

A couple of days pass and Alex is with Fahri in a café downtown. 'I nearly went into the coffee trade you know' he says, tossing back his espresso.

'Well why didn't you?'

'You know what they say….crime pays'. He laughs, pauses, as if he's waiting for Alex to catch up with the joke, or at the very least acknowledge it, except she does neither, her eyes hovering around the counter.

'Hey Vause…Vause!' he says clicking his fingers in impatience.

'What?' Alex replies, turning back towards him, pretending that she hasn't just locked eyes with Piper Chapman….that the blue didn't look _quite_ as icy as she thinks.

'What's up with you? Been using a little too much of your own product?' he grins, 'you seem….a little out of it'.

Alex shakes her head, 'no…nothing like that…just I forgot…gotta run some errands'

'Errands?'

'Yeah, you know….like house stuff'

'Fuck Vause, don't tell me you're turning into Martha Stewart?!'

Alex flips him the bird. 'You're a first rate comedian you know' but her eyes have already flicked back to Piper, following her out of the door, coffee in hand.

'Hey listen, I've got to go' she says bolting out of her seat, 'I'll call you later' she adds as she shrugs her jacket on.

'Alright' he sighs, 'just be careful ok?'

But Alex already knows it's too late for that.

…

She doesn't manage to find Piper again until the day after.

Alex is sitting idly at the bus stop opposite Smith, hissing into her phone at Sylvie. She's moaning about having to get a cab back from the airport, angling for Alex to say she'll pick her up, but Alex has zoned out, her stomach swirling uncomfortably any time she thinks she spots a blonde anywhere near the college building.

But it's not her… _never_ her.

She finally rids herself of her caller, hanging up mid-way through Sylvie screeching about how unreasonable Alex is being. And seconds later her cell is buzzing again, waspish and persistent and she's one frustrated scream from tossing it into the road, when she realises the caller ID isn't displaying Sylvie's name, it's a number she doesn't recognise.

So she answers it, breath caught in the back of her throat, feeling 12 again, a little shaky, naked without her usual cloak of bravado.

'I didn't think camping out at a bus stop bench was your style' she says. It's soft and warm: a delightful beam of sun.

'Piper' she says, almost singing her name.

'12 o'clock…..see you in a minute'.

Alex's eyes dart up to the corresponding spot on a would be clock face and sure enough, the blonde is stood there and without even thinking about it, Alex is up and walking, at barely less speed than a jog, a goofy grin plastered on her face, something warm fluttering in her chest.

Because the whole afternoon is _theirs; a_ nd Alex suddenly realises, that's all that matters for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hello again folks. So this chapter attempts to fill in the blanks before, during and after Bali. As always, thoughts and comments invited. And thank you for all your support so far.**

 **Enjoy.**

It's become an unspoken routine and Piper likes it that way. Every Wednesday for the past couple of months, Alex shows up for Piper's late shift and stays for the duration of it. Sometimes they'll sneak off into the restroom together and make out, pressed against a stall door, hungry hands and urgent lips, until Piper's insistence that she'll get fired becomes firm enough for her to _actually_ pull away.

'Why don't you quit' Alex mutters against her cheek one night, in a snatched five minutes.

'And do what? Become a house frau?'

'No…'. Alex pauses, pulls away a little, eyes bright and keen….'Just… be with me'

'Like your PA or something?'

Alex chuckles, 'Not quite no…but I guarantee it won't involve sticky bar tops and beer soaked coasters…the offer's there…'

But Piper can never quite bring herself to accept. And days they drift into weeks but Alex keeps playing the waiting game and Wednesdays always go the quickest when she's there.

'You've got the Maraschino Cherry Blues baby' Alex drawls one night, sipping Whiskey across the bar from the blonde, scribbling Piper love notes on the back of a coaster; silly limericks and quirky doodles. ( _What rhymes with Connecticut Pipes?)_

'Is that a thing?' Piper laughs.

'Sure it is'.

'And what's the solution' she says, leaning across, so she can smell the warmth of the liquor on Alex's breath.

'Me' the brunette mouths exaggeratedly.

Piper doesn't argue.

…

Her parents don't visit and this suits Piper just fine. And on the phone, Carol's tone is always spiky, a sigh of disappointment never more than a breath away.

'We'd just hoped for much more, we've invested so much in _you_ '.

But the ' _you'_ that Carol thinks she knows, isn't Piper, the blonde has finally learnt that. And Alex has made her realise, that her family, Smith and all the trimmings are nothing more than a footnote; a change is stirring, she can almost taste it.

…

It's 4.40am, Alex has to leave for the airport in less than an hour and Piper is feigning sleep, it's easier that way, it makes the separation more bearable, no remorseful goodbye, no stomach lurching silence as soon as she pulls the apartment door shut behind her, as Piper stands shivering on the bare floorboards. But today it isn't working.

'You do realise your eyes are flickering way too much for someone that's supposed to be asleep' Alex whispers against the nape of Piper's neck. The blonde turns over, swats at Alex in feigned irritation.

'I have to go Pipes….'

 _Silence._

'Pipes…'

 _Silence._

'I love you anyway…even if you are terrible actress'.

And then they both burst into fits of giggles and the salty tears are happy ones, good ones-the best ones.

'Hey' Piper finally says, when an easy quiet has fallen.

'Yeah?'

'I'll ride with you to the airport today ok?'

Alex doesn't question it; she just nods and pulls the blonde a little closer.

'It's only a short trip' she says. But she's no longer sure who she's offering those words of comfort to: herself or Piper.

…

But Bali is on the table now.

The 'yes' had come easily enough, her reluctance more of a test; how much did Alex really _want_ her there? How much did Alex really _need_ her there. And for a short time after, curled up together in bed, staccatos drifting around them, Piper's not sure that she knows the answer, even now.

Alex always talks about mules fleetingly and Piper doesn't ask for details. 'Its just work' becomes a phrase she's grown accustomed to. But her trips are getting longer and more frequent, the destinations more exotic and it's becoming increasingly difficult for them to understand where Alex's work ends and their relationship begins. And if she's being truthful, Piper's not entirely certain how comfortable she is with them being smudged into one singular thing, even if Alex promises that Bali won't get her into trouble.

'You're my girlfriend' the brunette says firmly, as if it should answer all questions, all doubts that are presently drifting through Piper's mind.

And it works for now. Just about.

…

There's a raw dread, being tailed by a giddy excitement and the combination of the two renders Piper incapable of sitting still. Instead she's positioned by the window overlooking the driveway, bouncing on the balls of her feet, streetlamps casting an eerie glow, so that the familiar seems less so and the unknown, strangely enticing.

Alex is late: of that there can be no doubt and Piper's trying really hard to block out her friend's words from earlier in the evening, because Polly doesn't get any of this, not really.

'But what do you _really_ know about her Pipes? I mean actual, tangible details? Family? Friends? Pets?'

'Pets? You want me to cancel a trip to Bali because I don't know whether she had a hamster when she was 12?'

Polly doesn't laugh, there's not even a slight crack of a smile. So they don't mention it any further, engaging in a few pleasantries before Polly tells her she has to be up early tomorrow. So she wishes her friend a safe trip and leaves. But the mood has shifted and Piper's initial exhilaration gives way to something else, something firmly grounded in reality.

And the word _mule_ lodges at the back of her throat.

…

She knocks back the remainder of the wine, busying herself with the practicalities of packing and tidying. But Alex hasn't called like she usually does and the small seed of dread that seemed trapped in her chest earlier, rapidly begins to bloom.

And Alex is now late enough that Piper thinks it's acceptable to call without appearing needy or foolish, but it rings out before sliding into voicemail. She doesn't leave a message, she's not even sure what to say, after all, 'where are you? Are you planning on using me as a mule?' would certainly lead to further conversations, things that Piper doesn't _really_ want to say and more than that, maybe words that she _really_ doesn't want to hear. So she stuffs the cell back into the pocket of her jeans, eyes fixed on the street again, wondering if maybe Polly didn't have a point all along.

But then a cab is pulling up outside her building and Alex spills out of it, her face automatically softening into a smile as soon as she sees Piper stood in the window. And just like that, everything else seems to melt away.

Because Polly was wrong.

And Piper suddenly finds herself thinking she's got a good feeling about Bali, she really has.

…

Their Bali adventures come and go in an intoxicating blur; lazy mornings exploring the temples and rice terraces, bustling afternoons wandering the markets, secluded beach strolls by moonlight, sipping Turak in between kisses that taste of sugar cane. And everything is underscored by Alex- by _them._

They talk about buying a condo, right by the beach. 'Think I may need a job more substantial than waitressing for that' Piper laughs and she's so giddy on liquor and Alex and the sand beneath her, that she's not sure any of this is even real. So she tries to commit what she can, firmly to memory. The sunburn on her nose, the smell of salt on the breeze, the vista of dusk behind them and Alex…. _always_ Alex.

'I tell you what kid, if we're together in ten years, I'll _buy_ you a condo, deal?' She offers her hand, Piper takes it, she's not even entirely sure what she's agreeing to, just that she's stretching this moment out as long as she can, before it dissipates into nothing more than historic words; drunken promises made on a whim. And it feels good, every last second of it.

But Alex still has to work and so every other night she disappears for a few hours, sighing with a sad sort of exhaustion, when she eventually returns and slides into bed.

Piper's always torn in these moments, she's never quite sure whether to ask how things went, if Alex is ok…if she's in trouble. So she normally settles for a muffled sort of 'hey' or 'I missed you' and it's always met in the same fashion, Alex curling herself around the blonde, more tightly than is strictly necessary, so much so that sometimes Piper dares to offer a joke about it.

 _(I think that sound is my rib cage cracking Al)._

But neither of them move; not even slightly.

…

She checks in with Polly every few days, trying to temper her happiness and appear sensible and rational. She's not sure it really works, only that Polly seems to accept whatever she tells her.

And the lying gets easier, especially to her parents. Her mother barely answers her calls any more and her father is easily satisfied with her small talk, happy she's no longer working in the bar. She asks after Danny and Cal and her grandmother and is given perfunctory responses, but in a more kind tone than when she working as a waitress. And that bothers her too, because the love is always so conditional.

The night before they're due to fly back, it's her mother that answers. She tries to tell her about the market, about a pendant she's picked up for Celeste, 'it looks antique' she beams, but Carol doesn't reply and Piper can hear her own voice, oddly hollow, an echoing reverberation, as if there's no one else on the other end of the line. And in a way, she figures, there isn't.

…

It's easy to say 'yes' a second time, because of Bill and Carol and the thought of staying in Northampton for any longer than she has to. But more than that, because she's not sure she can handle being without Alex for two solid weeks. Not any more.

She's spent two nights alone since Bali and her dreams are filled with blood and fire, the empty corridors of her mind consumed with a mild panic. She calls Alex after the first nightmare and she picks up quickly, voice still thick with sleep.

'Pipes?'

'Hey'

'Everything ok?'

'Yeah…'

'So you figured you'd just call and say hey at 3am?' She laughs softly, low and rasping and already Piper feels soothed. So she tells her a bit about the dream and they talk about nothing much, until Piper drifts off gently, cell still pressed against her ear.

After night two, Alex drives over to collect her and they stay in the brunette's apartment until the next trip is planned. They while away the days reading, tangled up on the couch, listen to music they can't agree on and fuck hungrily. And the hours bleed into night and they drink and laugh at old movies, making love as the screen flickers in the background, long shadows flanking the room.

But Alex is getting busier, Fahri is asking for more, expecting nothing less than the maximum. Piper hears her on the phone to him one night, when Alex thinks she's asleep. 'I cannot literally do any more than I am, you tell Kubra that, unless I fucking clone myself, is that what you're suggesting?!'

She ends the call shortly afterwards, but doesn't come straight back to bed and Piper's on the verge of going to check on her after twenty minutes have passed, when she spots her silhouette at the foot of the bed.

'Al…you ok?' Her voice is shaky, words juddery. She clears her throat, tries to sound calmer, firmer; 'was that work?'

'Yeah' she whispers, 'but it's fine, I've got it, just go back to sleep ok?'

Piper nods silently, slides back under the covers and assures herself, like she always does in these situations, because this job is just temporary, Alex never speaks about it in the long term, does she?

She starts racking her brain for examples, but a combination of restlessness and lack of sleep brings on a dull headache and she's finding it hard to concentrate. 'I can't sleep' she says eventually. But her words are swallowed up by a gaping chasm, because Alex has already left the room and then Piper suddenly realises, maybe _she's_ the temporary.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hello folks, so here is the final chapter.**

 **This was never intended to be a long multi, I just wanted to try my hand at canon and plug in a few gaps from the show along the way. I hope I managed to do it justice.**

 **This fic is a bittersweet story for me, because it's more than likely going to be my last fic outing for OITNB. I think I've covered all that I realistically can and need to turn my attention to real life stuff.**

 **This has been an amazingly rewarding fandom to write for and I'd like to thank everyone that's read, followed and commented on my stories over the last couple of years-it's always been appreciated. I've made some great friends along the way and I'd like to give a special shout out to 'imissedyourpatronage' whose help, wise words and solid memory have helped me immeasurably with my fics, but also with my writing in general.**

 **Anyway, enough from me, here's the final chapter, hope you enjoy it.**

Thick, soot coloured clouds scab over a watery blue sky, as Piper stares out of the trailer window. The air smells acrid, like burnt bacon.

She and Alex sit at the tiny table, crammed next to a compact stove and wait for Diane to emerge from the bathroom. Every so often the brunette gives Piper's hand a squeeze. She can't tell whether it's placatory or force of habit, but the blonde responds with a smile, albeit measured.

'Ta dah!' Diane says, returning in black, tailored pants and a cream blouse, 'do I look good enough to go apartment hunting?'

Alex laughs, 'I told you mom, it isn't a big deal, no need to get your fancy clothes out'.

'It's good to give them an airing every now and again, feels nice to be out of uniform'. She runs a hand over the sleeve of the blouse and turns to the blonde, 'whaddya think Piper?'

'I think you look great' Piper smiles back, not knowing what else to say, the morning's argument with Alex still swirling around her brain, stormy words jangling in her mind, reluctant to settle.

The Brussels run had been months ago and Alex had re-assured her, _promised_ her in fact, that she wouldn't need to do anything like that again, until today.

'You just board the flight to Istanbul, land, collect your bag and then Emir will meet you at the other end. One night in a hotel and then I'll be there the following day'. She says it idly, like she's reading out a list for the grocery store and that only pisses Piper off further.

But Alex is a dab hand at this, playing her job and its perils down. And yes, lost in some exotic locale, sun warming their bones and last nights' cocktails still lacing their breath, everything _does_ seem simple, nice, _normal_ even. But stripped back, the truth is cold and unnerving. They're both embroiled in something far more complex, danger increasingly palpable and more than that, where she once saw a slither of hope, a chink of light on an otherwise bleak horizon, Piper can no longer see an end point, a _real_ way out.

So she'd said no: cold and flat- no room for maneuver or persuasion.

'Right, I get it, you want all the perks, but don't want to sully yourself with the ground- work? You know what a fucked up sense of morality that is Piper? How ridiculously hypocritical it sounds?'

'No more fucked up than hiring your girlfriend as a goddamn mule and not giving a rat's ass she could get killed!'

Alex laughs, it's raw and sardonic and for a second her eyes glimmer with something so unfamiliar, that Piper's no longer sure who she's in the room with.

'You know what Piper? Fuck you.' And then Alex disappears into the bedroom, playing music too loud to be enjoyable and sulking like she's thirteen again.

An hour later it suddenly goes quiet and she re-emerges, complaining of a headache.

Piper's sat at the kitchen bench, bare legs crossed, pretending to read a newspaper. 'Maybe don't listen to music so loudly it can wake the dead then' she says. But she doesn't look up from the page her eyes are fixed on, doesn't smile or shout or do anything really and it makes Alex's insides crumple, because losing Piper is the one thing she's not sure she'd ever be able to forgive herself for and more than that, she realises that loving Piper, is the one thing in her life that she's done _right_.

So she doesn't reply to the jibe, just wraps her arms around the blonde and buries her face into the warm, supple flesh of Piper's neck.

And she doesn't know why, but lately, every time she holds Piper, it feels as if there's a finality to it; a goodbye that neither of them can bring themselves to say with words. And so they stay like that for a little while, until Piper's body yields to the familiar and melts quietly into the embrace.

Because things will be ok.

They have to be.

…

After a while, all the apartments blend into one ubiquitous blur; realtor buzz words fizzing in their ears, but Diane never offers more than a smile or an 'it's nice'.

'If you don't like any of them, just tell me' Alex says on the drive back to the trailer park, confused at her mother's seeming lack of interest

'Of course I like them honey, it's just I can't see the need to move. My trailer suits me fine, I like the neighbours and it's near to work….you should save the money…spend it on you and Piper'.

Piper bristles uncomfortably in her seat, lets out an awkward laugh that sounds unfamiliar as soon as it leaves her mouth. Alex shoots her a glance but says nothing.

Her income has been increasing rapidly, mirroring her workflow and one of the ways she can make it bearable, easier to stomach, is by helping Diane secure a future that doesn't involve waiting tables and sleeping in the same room as the kitchen sink.

'Will you at least think about it?' she finally says, hoping to come to some sort of compromise. Her mother promises her that she will, but Alex already knows she's lost the battle, she'll just have to focus on the war.

…

A month later they take a trip to Java and Alex promises Piper that work will be kept to a minimum. It takes a week or so for Piper to agree and even then she's tense for the duration of the flight, unable to settle on one of the many songs her mp3 player is loaded up with, mind failing to rest on a single film the inflight entertainment has to offer. And she always keeps one eye on Alex, afraid that if she naps, or visits the restroom, the brunette will disappear into thin air: the worst kind of magic trick.

But Alex sticks to her word, so for the first time in a while, the trip passes without any argument. They roam temples and lakes and spend time visiting tea plantations. And Piper takes photographs of _everything._ 'I'm pretty sure there's nothing left for you to cover', Alex jokes one night as they're getting ready for bed, a little drunk from their day trip to Jakarta. Piper smiles, 'you wanna see my favourite?'

'Sure' Alex replies, pulling the blonde close so that they both land in a messy heap on the bed. She flips through various landscape shots on the small digital screen, until she finally finds the one she wants.

'This' she says, shoving the camera under the brunette's nose. It's a picture of Alex on the boat tour they'd taken to Pindul Cave, there's a patch of sunburn on the bridge of her nose and her glasses are sitting on the top of her head, she's looking at something in the distance, over Piper's shoulder and there's a hint of playfulness about the slight curve of her lips, a suggestion of mischief in the glint of her eyes and it's so raw and lovely that it makes Piper's heart feel as if it's clattering against the confines of her rib cage.

Alex laughs, 'just how many more terrible pictures like this have you got of me?'

'Blackmail material' Piper says grinning, 'just in case'.

But even years later, it remains one of her favourite memories of Alex, frozen in a forgotten, untainted time, like she wishes everything could be.

…

'I think they thought you were doing some sort of rain dance' Alex says, desperately trying to bite back a fresh wave of laughter.

'Fuck you!' Piper hisses, haphazardly shoving clothes into a suitcase. 'If you hadn't got us lost on the way back to the condo, then maybe I could have found an actual bathroom and the villagers wouldn't have seen me….'.

'Taking a poop?'

Piper flings a shoe at Alex's head, but she ducks in time and it hits the mirror behind her instead.

'Easy there, breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck….don't think you need any more of that after today' she says, grinning conspiratorially.

'One more word about it Al and I swear…'

'Oh come on babe, I'm sure you're not the first tourist that's got caught short and had to poop in front of the locals'

'I had fucking food poisoning, you'd got us lost, we were miles away from the condo!'

'And yet _that's_ the one thing that hasn't made your pictures on this trip'.

'You're a fucking asshole you know that?'

'I know that'

'Hmmm'

'Love you'

'Hmmmm'

'What does that mean?'

'It means hmmmm'

'Pipes?'

'What?'

'You should practice that 'rain dance' as your party piece'.

Piper makes sure the second shoe doesn't miss.

…

They're en route to Greece after a few weeks in Turkey and Piper has never seen Alex look more exhausted. She snatches sleep in periods of one to two hours and doesn't seem to notice (or care?) that Piper always wakes when she slides out of bed, hurriedly firing up the laptop.

And so she sits like this for hours at a time, eerie blue light, filtering through the computer screen, eyes red rimmed and painful and all Piper can do is turn over, bury her head under the sheets and pretend it's all ok.

…

But she's gradually losing sight of _who_ Alex is, as it slowly gives way to _what_ Alex has become. And each new hotel room becomes a fresh prison, trapped under a thick blanket of silence and regrets, forced smiles and small talk.

They get to Greece trouble free, unpack and stand around awkwardly in the apartment, each too afraid to speak, concerned that they may begin a sentence that neither wants to hear the conclusion to. Until Alex pulls something out of her bag and hands it to the blonde.

'Here' she says, thrusting a guide book towards Piper, 'something to help with your research while I'm out.' She smiles and it's so lacking in feeling or discernible emotion that it hits Piper firmly in the chest and for a second, she almost feels winded, because when did _this_ become the norm? An unrecognizable smile on the _one_ face she thought she knew better than her own.

'I'm sure I'll figure it out' she says turning away, rejecting the olive branch and blinking back tears that she can't allow to fall.

'Suit yourself' Alex replies, tossing the book onto the bed and slinging a bag over her shoulder, 'I'll see you in a little while'.

'Yeah, I know the drill by now' the blonde scoffs. It does the trick, stops the brunette dead in her tracks, because actually, Piper _wants_ a reaction out of her, anger, upset _anything,_ just _anything_ at all she can relate back to the old Alex, _her_ Alex.

'The drill?' Alex says, raising an eyebrow.

'Yes, the fucking drill, you dump me in some foreign land and go and play with your friends for hours at a time, isn't that how this works Alex? Isn't that how this pathetic little story _always_ plays out?!'

The words are slipping out easy now, a freight train of suppressed emotion threatening to de-rail them both, but it has to be this way, it's too late for anything else.

'Nobody forced you to do this, no one held a fucking gun to you head Piper' Alex snaps, dumping her bag to the floor. 'What exactly is it you expect me to do? Leave? Hand in my notice? Because in case it's escaped your attention, this isn't a fucking waitressing job, Kubra and his pals aren't gonna give me a pat on the back, wish me well with the promise of a stellar reference. This is the _drugs_ business Piper, I'm sorry it's not living up to your _expectations!'_

She spits the last words so vehemently that Piper takes a few steps back, visibly recoiling from the tirade. And a huge part of her, the little girl that discovered her father cheating, just wants to curl up into a ball and make it all go away, brush it under the carpet, wait for the morning when things always look fresher, brighter….more bearable. But she's been doing that for too long now, an inefficient Band-Aid for a wound that runs too deep.

'I just….I just don't know if I can do this any more….' she says, in barely more than a whisper, as if she's thinking out loud rather than making a statement to Alex. But the words have been freed and Alex is swallowing hard, trying to make sense of it all, salvage something from the flames that appear to be engulfing them.

'Don't you get this?' Alex says, voice softer, thicker and wet. She cups Piper's face in her hands and the blonde so desperately wants to turn away, because she's scared if she looks into those eyes for long enough, she'll do the one thing that she knows she shouldn't; she'll _stay._

'Get what?'

' _This…_ all of it. It's the only thing I _know_ how to do, it's the one thing i'm good at and just for once in my life, you know what a relief that is? To feel like I actually _belong?_ '

Piper pauses, mouth opening and closing, but failing to form words because Alex's answer is so painfully frank, so heart wrenchingly obvious that all Piper wants to do is hold her. But then Alex is pulling away, demeanor changed, back to the stranger she's sharing a holiday apartment with.

'Look, if you want to leave then you can'. She runs a hand through her hair. 'I can change the tickets this afternoon, you can be out on the first flight that's available….we can talk more when I get back….'

But Piper shakes her head, because this is about so much more and she needs Alex to know that, to _really understand._

'Don't you get it Al? We're nothing but a patchwork of broken promises: shards of something we used to be….'

'So what is it you're saying?'

'I don't know….I don't know if we can fix this…. _us'._

'No, you don't know if you _want_ to fix this'.

Piper isn't sure which is worse, so she says nothing, stares out of the window overlooking the gardens, the searing beams of sunlight an odd juxtaposition of their mood. 'I'm just exhausted Alex….when did it stop being so easy? When did we stop being us?'

Alex slumps down onto the bed, buries her face in her hands. 'I don't know kid, guess it's kinda apt we find this out in a city with some of the world's most historic ruins huh?' she looks up, cracks a smile that's _so_ Alex, that Piper's heart swells almost painfully.

'This can't be it?' Alex says after a minutes pause, the statement fracturing mid-way through delivery, because they deserve better than this and she knows she can make it work, she just needs to speak to Kubra, maybe ask for a break, plead insanity, _anything_ so that she doesn't destroy the very fabric of _them_.

And deep down Piper knows what she should say, what Polly would advise without hesitation. But things with Alex have never been measured or rational, textbook or routine and quite honestly, that's part of the buzz. So when she finds herself agreeing to stay, she means it, when Alex kisses her, she kisses back because she believes it and when she whispers 'I love you' every cell of her skin _feels_ it, because after all, this is her and Alex.

And she's banking on it being enough.

…

'The city of love no less' Alex beams, handing Piper the two plane tickets.

'Paris?' Piper says, wide-eyed.

'No Utah…of course fucking Paris you idiot' Alex chuckles.

'Wow Alex, I don't know what to say…'

'Say yes of course…what else?'

'Well….yes….obviously' she replies, a little hesitant at first, allowing the information to sink in, her tone becoming more solid as she repeats the affirmation. 'Yes!'

She wraps her arms around Alex's neck, pulls her close. 'I can't wait' she says, hushed tones laced with a raw excitement.

'It's gonna be great babe' Alex smiles.

'Promise?' Piper says, in between soft, teasing kisses.

'Promise' comes the firm response. 'Cross my heart'.


End file.
